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#-Thing' dkfjngdfjkgdf ))
burning-fcols · 4 months
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“C'mon, you know you’re the only one I want to be with.” ( if you want! djefkdjlfkd; Crimson for Striker. I have a reasonable explanation. -w- Maybe. ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧
「 ☆ 」 ❝ Tch. You have a real funny way’a showin’ it. ❞ Chimes a snide remark, Striker sparing an unconvinced look down at the mafia boss. Sat atop of a stack of crates, tail hangs off the side, swishing with deceptive leisure as sharp eyes study the other man’s movements. It’s a habit that’s difficult to switch off. Always watching for that split-second when someone shows their hand as a threat. Regardless of who they are. Usually it’s those one expects the least.
Crimson is an odd case… Frankly, Striker doesn’t doubt he’s the type to put a bullet through the ❛ only one he wants to be with ❜ should the need arise. Maybe he’s being overly-cynical; giving Crimson too much credit. But he’d rather be a distrusting bastard than a dead one. Besides, he sees the way Crimson’s lackeys have a habit of hovering. Whether it’s by Crimson’s orders or not, they clearly don’t trust the outlaw either. With so much tension settling in the air and… unforeseen developments somehow taking root regardless, it just makes sense to have realistic expectations.
Still, it sure would be nice if Striker could believe he was capable of delving into this mess any other way… No point in complaining over what’s already done. He’s too broken to go about relationships the way he used to and, in an annoying twist of fate, that seems to be coming in handy right now. How else could someone hope to survive getting familiar with someone in Crimson’s line of work? It takes a specific type of person to thrive in the environment the other man’s life is cemented in… Hell, it takes a special sort of strength to live BOTH their lives. Maybe that's why, throughout the turbulence of time, they've unwittingly drifted toward each other.
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Why Striker begrudgingly respects the hot-tempered leader... Infuriating as Crimson also proves to be. Dancing a knife across his fingertips as he beholds the other man, he abruptly clenches it in a white-knuckled grip, ❝ I'm not jus' anotha' one'a yer mindless goons. Even if ya WEREN' wit' me all physical-like, I'd still deserve more respect than I jus' got. ❞ Referring to earlier, when Striker's concerns were dismissed as if an annoyance while Crimson finished relaying information to one of his sharks. All things considered, it was only a fleeting moment... but even the smallest of instances can be important when it comes to how one is viewed.
Hold on his knife tightens, Striker resisting the urge to throw it in Crimson's direction and have it bury in the wall beside him. Empty threat or not, it's still best not to make the first move when things haven't devolved into violence. He'd only have himself to blame then, should Crimson retaliate. Shoving the large blade into its holster on his belt, fur bristles as he growls, ❝ I don' appreciate bein' made ta look small in front'a th' otha's... Even if it was jus' one. They TALK. ❞
Hopping down from his perch of crates, tail rattles warningly as he takes a step toward Crimson. Not a blatant challenge but a show that he's not one to cower before the others authority, muddled as their working relationship has become. ❝ I don' need ev'rybody thinkin' I've lost my bite. ❞ Never mind that in... certain situations, the Imp is willing to relinquish some of that ❛ dominance ❜ . 「 ☆ 」
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